


maybe

by Raitnrong



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 15:20:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13192896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raitnrong/pseuds/Raitnrong
Summary: She feels it every day.Everytime she gives those bottles away.An inside look on Sayori's depression.





	maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Just a thought. And maybe a low and sad work dedicated for those suffering with depression.
> 
> Hang in there.

On some days, I itch everywhere. 

I'd look around for the source and then some stupid part of me - but I remember the time I messed up dinner again yesterday and almost injured Natsuki so maybe it wouldn't just be a _part_ \- would feel so agitated when I couldn't just find it somewhere.

That part is small and pitiful - like a small part of your brain but I was never good at science - it would wail and tear-up.

And then my eyes would water for no reason, as well. I'm so confused. I'd always ask _What's wrong?_.

I think it may be located at my tummy though. So I'll just eat my burnt noodles with Natsuki while I try to avoid looking at her for too long and avoid the way the images around me would play with the water on my eyes. She'd suggest dessert and a drink while I'll just listen to my friend talk about the mishap of my cooking.

( ~~ _so Useless, so Useless, so fucking useless_~~ ). She has a nice voice.

_I'm sorry, Natsuki_

 

\--{{{+}}}--

On those days, the voices grow too loud.

Maybe they were bored and thought they could sing to make it all better. But that part calls to me again and all I could think of was the itch; I'd wriggle on my bed, hopeless as a worm -or maybe lower because worms have standards too, you know?

I'd think of cutting my sides, the fourth rib just under the corner of my breasts, where it tickles, down towards... the back? The front? The lines of my body? _Up to my neck?_

That itch subsides just enough for me to feel the same small part confirm its nod its head up and down. They might want me to greet hello! What a plan.

Then I remember about plans, and sharp objects, and - oh god - Yuri! I was suppose to meet her almost an hour ago. And outside the bookstore, in the winter, Yuri's been standing. My friend is tremendously cold and almost freezing as we walk inside -I'm sure my insides would be warm. 

( ~~ _I feel numb anyways, empty inside, empty inside_~~ ) She looks at me, it hurts but understanding flickers back.

_I'm sorry, Yuri_

 

\--{{{+}}}--

Then, I could do nothing but cry.

And **I** 'd tell myself that it was understandable because it's a natural process when we're hurt. **I** 'd then tell myself ' _Who cares?_ '. **I** would follow it with a no one, or a someone... then a no one. **I** 'd tell myself a billion things - it's really less than that and **I** should stop exaggerating it, **I** t's annoying.

And I never really know which is which when these thoughts enter my head. Because they could camp for days there where all I could hear were my mistakes in a repeat. 

There were a lot of them.

But it was also a good thing I had so many friends in my life. I could cheer them up or help in any way I could! I need them! I NEED THEM SO MUCH TO BE HAPPY FOR ME!

So they'd scream in my head while Monika recites her poem to me, through the phone - because I felt "sick" - and it would all be okay. I'll just have to hope that the self-deprecation was from my head... not her. Because everything is so unclear to me nowadays. And when I wanted to write a poem about what I was feeling, it stayed empty. My friend continued to drone on and it all fits.

( ~~ _get Out of my head, get out of My head, out of my Head_~~ ) She knows everything, though.

_I'm sorry, Monika_

\--{{{+}}}--

And oh, was the strawberry-blonde mostly scared, then. 


End file.
